


NATIONAL ANTHEM/TO BE ALONE

by BlackbatRevolution



Series: The Complete Cranscott AU Saga [8]
Category: Power Rangers (2017), Scream (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Heavy Angst, Kinda, M/M, Prequel, Smut, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 01:30:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20127136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackbatRevolution/pseuds/BlackbatRevolution
Summary: A small prequel to my 'Touched by a Ranger' fic. RJ Cyler (Billy Cranston) happens to play a football player in Scream TV season 3 and Jason mentioned having a fling with a football player at football camp, so I had to write a story about that. No previous knowledge of Scream 3 is required.





	NATIONAL ANTHEM/TO BE ALONE

**Author's Note:**

> “Why did you think you would never want to do this again, was your first time that bad?” He asked, curious about his more experienced partner.
> 
> There was a pause, as Jason sighed.
> 
> “You could say that,” He admitted. He swiped his sweaty hair from out of his face. “I really don’t want to get into this now but to be honest my first time was at football camp with some straight guy that wanted to experiment. He treated me like shit during and after sex but I don’t want that bad experience to taint what we have,” He divulged, voice getting soft as he stared into Billy’s eyes.

[Touch By A Ranger](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11304969/chapters/25296813)  


The summer before Jason's 19th birthday - before Jason’s knee got injured in the ‘Beefcake’ prank gone wrong and his football career was tragically cut short - before he met the four best friends, he’d have for the rest of his life and became a goddamn POWER RANGER; The most exciting thing to happen to him was being accepted into an elite football training camp, that prepared young star athletes for a possible career in the NFL. This training camp based in Atlanta was a steppingstone (and a privilege) for all those with dreams of being a professional football player. Young Athletes got to be trained and supervised by actual professional coaches and former NFL players and in return these coaches got early access to these young impressionable and talented players before anyone else could sway them away to a rival university. It was a win-win for everybody, if still a bit exploitative.

Jason was happy to have the opportunity but was disappointed he’d have to spend his summer training, instead of goofing off with his friends and teammates. The team aspect was his favorite part of football. Oh, he loved a challenge and getting to release his pent-up emotions but just about any sport would satisfy that. Football happened because his dad had played in school, so he was expected to follow in his footsteps. Overtime Jason got used to it and got _very _good at it.

Jason was recommended by his coach, who sent in an audition tape of sorts into the program and got a scout to come out to Angel Grove and watch Jason play. They were a little late in making the deadline and just made it in, but the scholarship that Jason applied for went to another student who proved to be more ‘vulnerable and in need of assistance’ than Jason was. Luckily Sam Scott, his dad was a bigger fan of him than anyone else in Angel Grove and that was saying _a lot_. He would do anything to further Jason’s career, so taking out a loan, having several garage sales, and asking for donations from friends, co-workers, family and neighbors was nothing out of the ordinary. But Jason was still a bit bitter that he got passed over for someone else. That was until he met his rival on the first day of the camp.

“That is Deion Elliot, they call him D’day, how disrespectful to veterans! _He’s the one who stole your scholarship_.” Coach Rogers said, pointing across the field to the figure of a tall black boy wearing nothing but sweatpants and doing warmups. “Affirmative Action Run amuck is what I think, _you’re a better player than him_.”

“How do you know that?” Jason asked, infuriated by racist microaggressions early in the morning. The sun was hardly out yet, and he was being made to run laps around this big ass football field. He didn’t have time to indulge his coaches bullshit. “Have you ever seen him play?”

“I’ve seen you play, you’re _Jason Scott!_ A sketchy kid from Atlanta doesn’t have what you have.” He said, obscuring his racism with fanaticism.

“_Sketchy_.” He repeated, glaring at his coach - the 40 something year old man put in charge of guiding his career. They were from _California_ not the south. He’d known coach Rogers since 9th grade and never got any inclinations that he was a racist, but you never know someone do you? The Angel Grove football team isn’t all that diverse, so Jason can see him getting away with it for many more years. “What do_ I_ have that _he_ doesn’t? White skin?”

He laughed, clapping Jason on the back. He was trying to joke himself out of the awkward situation. He never expected Jason Scott to be one of those  
“woke teens” but neither him nor his team knew Jason Scott very well at all. “That isn’t what this is about. You got real natural talent. You have the potential to go anywhere you want, you know?”

“I know,” Jason said, grinning. “That’s why I’m going over there, to introduce myself to Mr. _Deion Elliot_.”

He took off running, across the field towards Deion and away from his shitty coach. “Jason! Come back here and run laps!” He heard coach Rogers shouting but ignored him. Jason couldn’t stand bigots and bullies.

“Sorry coach, can’t hear you, doing reconnaissance!” He called back, still sprinting.

With how fast Jason could run, he was standing (and panting) in front of Deion Elliot in a matter of seconds. They both were drenched in sweat and catching their breathes, but when their eyes met, Deion stopped doing warmups and gave him a onceover. “You’re Jason Scott, right?”

“You know me?” Jason asked perplexed, he didn’t know that his name and his reputation traveled outside the boundaries of Angel Grove.

Deion grabbed a towel out his backpack and wiped his forehead, neck and bare chest. Jason eyed all his movements, with a little too much interest. Deion didn’t seem to notice or mind this extra attention. _Come on Scott, cut it out_, Jason thought, trying to get himself under control.

“Of course, I know you,” He said, in his thick southern accent. “Coach won’t stop talking about you, saying you’re the only real competition here and that you’ll whoop my ass in tryouts if I don’t stay on my toes…”

Jason chuckle awkwardly. “Yeah my coach was saying the same thing about you,” He lied. Deion didn’t need to have his day ruined by knowing what the human trashcan coach Rogers thought of him.

“Well how about we make them both proud?” Deion asked, wearing a sweet smile and putting out his hand for Jason to shake. “Friendly rivalries never hurt anyone, right?”

“Right,” Jason said, returning the smile and shaking his hand. “Friendly rivalries…”

And in that very moment Jason was given the pleasure of watching the sunrise together with Deion. Orange rays broke through the dusky blue atmosphere, giving light and a bit of heat to the chilly morning. The clouds parted and little rays of light beamed out, landing on Jason and Deion. Deion glowed with the sheen of sweat on his dark skin, as he basked in the rays. Jason watched in awe as the rays danced on the full lashes of half lidded almond eyes and down the rest of his profile.

“_Beautiful_,” Jason sighed.

“I guess it is,” Deion said, looking towards the rising sun. “Never paid it any mind before.”

Jason looked down to see their hands were still connected and wondered what it could mean. He didn’t want to get his hopes up but Deion’s hand sure felt nice in his. He’d never overthought such a simple greeting in his life, until now. It was painful to have it ripped from him.

Deion pulled his hand away the second other campers rushed out onto the field for morning practice.

“Yo D-day! You think you can hog the field!” A camper wearing a Weaver High School sweater shirt shouted from the sidelines.

“Then come take it from me Avery!” Deion shouted, running towards his teammate. “See ya later Scott!” He gave Jason another one of his dazzling smiles before turning his back.

Jason learned something about himself that day. He learned that can’t ignore his interest in boys any longer and that Deion ‘D-day’ Elliot may just be his first foray into non-straight territory. This time he’ll admit (to himself that is) that he is attracted to Deion, unlike Hawkeye or Ty (his teammates), which he will deny until his last day on earth. There was potential here.

Much of this braveness had to do with him being far away from home, far enough away from the weight and reputation of being star quarterback _Jason Scott_ that he could maybe be himself for once. Himself just happens to be a little (a lot) gay.

Football camp was a lot like one would expect. A bunch of competitive hypermasculine testosterone filled young men in a confined area does not make for pleasant conversation or healthy bonding. There was bonding over football, food, girls and video games but very few things deeper than those, but it was _fun_. There was a lot of pretending and fronting on Jason’s part, but he was so used to playing his role as ‘Golden Boy’ that he hardly had to think about it.

Jason got this vibe that Deion was the same. He lived up to his hyped on the football field (He was faster and stronger than Jason, despite what his Coach said) and he made friends with just about anyone who wasn’t a jealous bigot. In public Deion was charismatic, funny, determined and optimistic but in private he was _different_. And only Jason saw that difference, because he couldn’t pretend for long. Sharing a cabin with Deion gave Jason a lot of insight into his real personality. (They used to have another cabin-mate, but the guy had an intense allergic attack just a few days into the camp. It was tragic but Jason was glad for some alone time to with Deion).

He wanted to get to know him more. And what he learned was…

_Deion Elliot leaps across the football field, pivoting and dancing around apposing team (around Angel Grove’s golden boy) and leapt in between the gold posts, throwing the football to the ground. His teammates and for some reason Jason Scott, raced towards him, hoisting him up in the air. He received too many claps on the back and cheers. _

_Jason’s coach looked on in disapproval and Deion’s schoolmate Avery looked on in undeniable jealousy. They’re friendship was problematic for them both. _

_“God you’re unstoppable, aren’t you?” Jason asked, grinning. _

_“I don’t know about that, if I didn’t get my ass into gear, you sure would have stopped me,” He answered. _

_Jason was eager to tackle him to the ground, but having Deion’s arm around him as they walk to the locker room was just as rewarding as stopping his play or even more so._

Over time Jason learnt what he needed to know. Deion was truly _exhausted_. He would come to the cabin after for staying way too late training on the field and just collapse into bed. He didn’t watch Tv or listen to music, just sleep for the first couple of nights. You’d think Jason wasn’t there. When in the mess hall or on the field, he’d be the first to suggest a game or strike up a conversation. Anytime not spent sleeping and studying plays, was spent talking to his mother on the phone, (his father and older brother too but he was clearly a momma’s boy).

“I’m eating fine Mom, I’m having chicken salad as we speak, I need to stay in fighting shape,” He bragged on the phone, as he stuffed his face with French fries.

Jason laughed in the background at the obvious lie, having dropped his headphones to listen in on the lively one-way conversation. Deion glared at him, but he couldn’t help cracking a smile himself. “I should go mom, it’s gonna be lights-out in a few minutes, talk to you tomorrow, Love you too. _Bye_,” He said, hanging up before she could use her Mom telepathy to figure out that he’d been eating fast food and takeout all summer.

“I guess potato could be a vegetable…” Jason cheekily added.

Deion smiled. “Mom worries too much.”

“You never let people worry about you, do you?” Jason asked, looking expectantly up at him.

“They don’t need to worry about me,” He finished with the food wrapper, crushed it and shot it into the hoop. His aim is as great you’d expect. It landed into the waste basket. “I’m _fine_…” He flashed a wide grin.

Jason nodded, not wanting to be considered nosy and prying for caring about this stranger. He tore his eyes away from Deion and resumed watching the YouTube video Damo had sent to him. It may have been funny, but he soon found himself watching Deion change into his pajama bottoms and slipping into bed. He honestly wasn’t being a pervert, but he wanted to confirm the fact that the minute Deion believed wasn’t being watched, he reverted to his sullen introspective self.

Deion Elliot was not _fine_, not during the nights anyway. During the days he was the big man on campus, running back extraordinaire – steady on his feet and sure footed but some nights he’d toss and turn like any troubled child. Jason had long discovered that he talked in his sleep, mumbling phrases like “I’m sorry,” and “Don’t go in there!” and even shouts of his own name and the name ‘Marcus’. There was a mound of guilt buried under Deion’s skin.

It happened rarely enough that Jason out of politeness choose not to bring it up but one night it got out of hand. During a full-blown night terror, he screamed so loud that Jason feared either he would wake up the whole camp or his heart would give out. He jumped out of his single bed and raced over to Deion’s.

“Mom, I’m sorry! He’s gone! _He’s gone!”_ Deion screamed, as he twisted and turned in bed, writhing like a man on fire. 

Grasping a strong hold of his shoulders, Jason shook and shook as hard as he could. Deion fought him, swinging his fists and pulling at his clothes. He was fighting for his life in his dream. “Deion!” Jason shouted, holding in down. “You’re safe! _You’re Safe!_”

He shot up, and Jason instinctively wrapped his arms around him – even if it was just to keep from getting punched, _again_. After relaxing in the tight embrace, Deion opened his eyes, and looked around the room and then finally at Jason. They both were panting and covered in cold sweat, as if they had just gotten off the field. But unlike the many times they’ve gotten in from practice, Deion was trembling like a leaf, drowning in his own personal terror.

“You’re safe,” Jason whispered, as Deion clung to him and worked to calm himself down.

It was darkness so Jason could see very little of Deion’s expression, but he could hear his breathing slow and feel his heartbeat regulating. “You’re safe…” Jason repeated, running his hand up and down, caressing Deion’s back.

Deion gave himself over to the embrace for some time, closing his eyes and hugging him back, a few minutes before pulling away from Jason. “_I’m fine_,” He said, backing away from Jason. His dilated eyes, and goosebumps covered skin said otherwise. “I’m good…_just a nightmare_…”

“Pretty intense for a nightmare…”

“I get them sometimes…I know how to deal with them…” Deion was adamant that he didn’t need help from anyone.

There was no arguing. Jason got up from the bed, flicked on his bedside lamp and went over to their cooler. He came back with bottle of water, and to his surprise Deion accepted it. “This will help.”

“Thanks…” His voice was oddly soft, and timid. He sipped from the water bottle in silence while his nerves settled.

“My baby sister pearl used to get nightmares…they started around the time my parents started arguing about everything…my parents didn’t think to look into it until she started wetting the bed and acting out in school…” Jason said out of nowhere.

“_The bed is dry_…” Deion screwed-up his face, offended at the accusation. “I ain’t pissing the bed or acting out…”

Jason rolled his eyes. “The point is something traumatic may be triggering the nightmares…you need to talk to someone, _a professional_…”

“Aren’t you brilliant,” He said sarcastically, capping the water bottle. “And you don’t think we haven’t tried that…I’ve been going to a bunch of expensive ass therapists since I was ten years old…ain’t fixed me one bit!”

His outburst silenced Jason. He could feel Deion’s agitation with being questioned, and worried over but the atmosphere of gloom and doom hadn’t left the room. An aura of dread hung over the room, like a cloud or the looming shadow of a tall menacing person. He had to diffuse it, or he was sure that it would suffocate Deion in his sleep.

“We have a big day tomorrow, a lot of showing off for important scouts…”

“Don’t need to remind me.”

“You need to sleep hotshot.”

“Once again genius, _I know_.”

Jason rested his hand on Deion’s shoulder, looking in straight in his eyes. They share a gaze; Jason’s eyes were pleading to be let in and Deion pleading to be left alone. It was as if he didn’t believe he deserved peace of mind. There was so much guilt in those gorgeous brown eyes. Deion broke the eye contact first, unable to withstand the intensity.

“I have an idea,” Jason said suddenly. “I know how you can get to sleep…guaranteed no nightmares.”

“Really?” Deion stopped being difficult and listened to what Jason had to say. He was desperate to be well rested for tomorrow’s tryouts. He’d do just about anything.

“Yes really, my sister used to do it, and she’d sleep like a baby the rest of the night,” He said smiling.

“What’s this special trick?”

“Well, she’d sneak inside my rooms, and crawl into bed with her personal knight in shining armor, who just happened to give the best cuddles,” He tried to appear as innocent as possible. He knew the expression he was making didn’t suit his face. But this is exactly what he would say to pearl, goofy tone and all.

Deion laughed, “You can’t be serious…”

“It’s foolproof.”

“No way in hell!”

“Fine, good night D.” Jason waved him off and walked over to his bed. He got under the covers and turned off his lamp, which sent the place back into darkness. He settled into bed, turning his back to Deion, silently berating himself for even suggesting such a thing. If the rest of the guys at the camp found out, he’d never live it down and they’d probably start asking some questions he isn’t ready to answer.

His worries of being mocked were immediately melted away when he felt the bed dip under considerable amount of weight, and he felt someone’s body heat against his back. Arms wrapping around his waist was also a shock. Jason went ridge for a second when he felt Deion breathing against the back of his neck. “Don’t tell anyone about the nightmares, they won’t want to give a scholarship to a kid who doesn’t have his head on right…” Deion sounded like he was begging.

_I won’t, if you don’t tell anyone about how I much enjoy the feeling of your arms around me_, Jason thought. “I wouldn’t even think of it,” Is what he really said.

“_Good_. I wouldn’t want to have to kill you…”

Jason chuckled, relaxing as Deion snuggled into his back.

And as Jason had promised, he slept peacefully the entire night. When they woke up, they were entangled in each other’s limbs. Though Jason was the first to wake up, Deion was the first to untangle himself and leave early for morning practice. They’d sleep together several nights after this but wouldn’t dare acknowledge their sleeping arrangements in the light of day.

Since the day they decided to share a bed, their relationship changed. Jason clung to Deion, not physically but he wasn’t ever far from him. They trained together (to the chagrin of their coaches), they ate breakfast at the same table, they hung out in the same clique and went home to their cabin together. Outside their cabin they wouldn’t do or say anything that would make anyone even think they were anything other than good friends. But inside the cabin, at night and in the early mornings, they had settled into a routine that was downright _domestic_.

They would share food, share clothing, and watching Tv shows all cuddle up in bed. And yet they hadn’t labeled what they were.

“Told you elementary was good,” Jason said, waiting for the next episode to load. He and Deion were in Jason’s bed, sharing a mound of pillows.

“When you said Sherlock, I thought you meant the British one with that ugly Dr. Strange guy…” Deion said.

“He isn’t_ that_ ugly!”

“That’s your white vision talking…”

“SHUT UP!” Jason couldn’t help the laughter that burst out of him. Deion’s hand brushed against his when they reached for popcorn at the same time. It was the stuff romantic comedies were made of, the kind of thing that made one’s heart flutter. And after that, there were many more accidental touches and grazes, and some didn’t feel all that accidental.

Deion liked Jason’s brave kindness, and his excitement for life. God knew he’d do anything for a kick and a laugh. He had that middle-class white boy freedom that Deion had never had, and with the ambitious aspirations he had for himself, he may never get that freedom. Deion wasn’t sure how he felt about him yet, but he hadn’t enjoyed himself like this in years.

“Night swimming, _really Jason_,” Deion asked as they snuck into a pool, in a resort down from their camp site, on a particularly sweltering Atlanta night. “We could have just had cold showers…”

Jason smirked, stripping off his clothes. “Well skinny dipping isn’t as sexy in the shower.”

“If we get arrested, we’ll kicked out of the program…”

“We’re the best players here, they’d be stupid to give up on us.”

“Easy for you to say, Mr. California,” Deion grumbled.

He cannonballed into the pool, splashing Deion, soaking him through his clothes. “The fuck Scott!”

Jason emerged over the surface seconds later, shaking his hair and grinning at the wet furious boy. Jason held his gaze, not being dissuaded by how pissed he looked. Deion wanted this just as much as he did. Heck Deion needed a bit of rebellion, he was too pent up and too frustrated.

“Fine,” Deion sighed, pulling his wet clothes off his body. “But if they call the cops on us, _I’m snitching_…”

“Fair enough…” Jason had the upmost pleasure of watching Deion strip off wet clothing. Suddenly he was very subconscious of his body below the water. Suddenly he wondered if skinny dipping was a good idea to begin it. Could he handle how close they were becoming?

As for Jason, he was head over heels. Deion was the guy next door that the nerdy protagonist girl in a movie would fall for. He talked cool – walked cool – dressed cool – acted cool – listened to cool music – and attracted cool people. He was the definition of the word _cool_. He was the all-American guy that people _thought_ Jason was – the kind of guy that Lana Del Ray songs are about. All manner of corny descriptors filled Jason’s mind, because one’s brain is hardly functional during a crush. 

…He was charismatic, magnetic,

electric and everybody knew it. When he walked in

every woman's head turned, everyone stood up

to talk to him. He was like this hybrid, this mix of

a man who couldn't contain himself.

I always got the sense that he became torn

between being a good person and

missing out on all of the opportunities that life could

offer a man as magnificent as him.

And in that way I understood him

and I loved him.

I loved him, I loved him, I loved him.

And I still love him.

I love him.

He couldn’t exactly keep Deion to himself though, and he was reminded of that every time they were given free time and permission to leave the campus. They always ended up in the part of Atlanta that Deion and the other natives knew very well. It was a swinging roof top party being hosted by a mysterious promoter. And there was a definite advantage to being in home territory.

As Deion entertained three beautiful girls, at the same time (he had a gift) on the dance floor. Three of his camp mates and Jason watch bitterly from the bar. Drowning his sorrows in one too many. Though Jason was bitter for completely different reasons than they were. Jealousy was killing him, but seeing Deion cut loose and smile was enough to make going out worth it.

“Deion is hogging all the girls!” A camper griped (someone Jason hadn’t cared to learn their name). “The best ones anyway, there’s only uggos and fats left…”

“Don’t worry about it, D-day might be good at take off, but he never sticks the landing,” Avery chimed in. “We’ll clean up when he’s had enough…”

“He can’t close a deal huh?”

“Nah, he thinks he’s too good for everybody!”

The guys laugh and Jason was reminded just how toxic envy was. People used to say that about Jason Scott after he turned down the likes of Amanda Clarke and Rebecca Harper (both considered to be the most beautiful girls in school). He’d always say he had his sights set on Kimberly Hart (who happened to be dating his teammate and frenemy Ty Fleming) and he wasn’t going to settle until he had the opportunity to ask her out. The opportunity never came, because he wasn’t trying hard enough. And maybe, just maybe, he isn’t all that interested as he’d like others to believe.

Could Deion be the same as him?

God, he could only hope.

And just like envious Avery had said, Deion may have been drunkenly dancing with each of the lovely girls for a while, but he didn’t go off with any of them, to each girl’s dismay. Jason watched as he told the girls to pardon him, probably saying he had early morning of training tomorrow, before making his way over to Jason. He settled onto a bar stool with an exasperated sigh.

Avery and the two other nobodies pounced on the disappointed girls like fresh meat the very second Deion stepped away from them. “Did D-day strike out?” Jason asked smirking, pointing over to the three girls being circled like prey in the wild.

“_Nah_, it’s crunch time. Can’t afford to get distracted,” Deion said, before ordering a drink with just a couple hand gestures.

“Come on!” Jason said with a goofy smile. The sudden excitement came from the alcohol but also from seeing the layer of sheen on Deion’s skin, that made him appear to glow. “It’s downtime. You can have some fun!”

“You’re not exactly reeling anything in yourself,” He countered.

“No one here is my _type_.” It was said softly, and bravely like a confession.

Deion scrounged up his face, he looked around the party, at the diverse array of girls. Almost very shape, size and type of woman on the market was at the party, well dressed and in a damn good mood too. Whose type wasn’t here? There was only one thing most of the girls had in common.

“Don’t like black girls…?” Deion asked, drawing a conclusion from their only predominant feature. “Cause dude…”

“No... No...” Jason answered nervously, before he understood how that refusal could be interpreted and rephrased himself. “I mean that’s not it…it’s not the black part…of course not. I’m not an idiot!”

Seeing him fret and squirm made Deion laugh. “Then what…can’t handle hotlanta girls?” Imagining Jason dating a girl like Kym made him laugh even more, it would be cute, but she’d run his entire life. He’d be president by the time she’s done with him.

Releasing his lip from between his teeth, Jason offered up another confession. He wasn’t going to beat around the bush any longer, not with this golden liquid courage streaming through his veins. “Doubting whether I like the girl part…not certain but questioning…”

“Oh…” Deion froze, not giving a negative reaction but just a surprised one.

“You?” Jason asked hopefully. “I won’t tell anyone…”

“Nah, I like girls,” He said, almost defensively. “Just don’t want to fall in love or become a father before I make it big and repay my moms for being everything to me…”

Those words were like cold water being spilled down Jason’s spine, he tried to put on a smile. “Okay cool…ignore what I just said…” As he stood, he felt a wave of nausea overtake his body. He was going to throw up. “I’m going home.”

Deion held Jason in place to prevent him from stumbling. “I should take you back to camp. You’re not looking good.”

“So, you’re Mr. Sober now?” Jason sassed. 

“We two different types of drunk…” He pointed out, steadier on his feet than Jason was.

Jason snorted, leaning into Deion’s side and shoulder and inhaling dreamily. “You smell good, _Armani?”_

“_No, Tom ford_.”

“God you’re cool…”

Deion laughed, “You can have some next time…”

The cold wind against Jason’s face and body and the quite long bus ride back to the camp while nursing a bottle of water managed to sober him up some. He didn’t stagger when they stepped off the bus but he was oddly quiet throughout. He finally understood the weight of what he just admitted to. He’d never told anyone that, hell he’d hardly admitted it to himself and he wasn’t quite ready to tackle the conversation and awkwardness that will follow a confession like that.

One would find athletic guys don’t feel comfortable around any guy who wasn’t 100% straight. They’re all afraid of being treated like they treat women, afraid of being leered at and harassed. Very few of them would even catch a gay guy’s attention, and none of the caught Jason’s, _besides Deion that is_.

So, he wanted to quell Deion’s fears about him. “We’re cool right?” Jason asked.

“Last time I remembered,” Deion smiled, unlocking the door to their room.

“Good, good,” Jason thought out loud. “It’s just I don’t want to have to change rooms or something, like I understand boundaries might change…”

He rolled his eyes, pulling Jason into the room. “I once spent days camped out in front of a radio station in New Orleans, with my bisexual friend Kym, and her gay best friend Manny, trying to get Rihanna tickets. I showered with wet wipes and we shared a sleeping bag. I don’t think I know what boundaries are anymore…”

Jason chuckled, closing the door behind him. “Clearly…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just…the last couple weeks, we’ve been getting _pretty close_. Had me thinking things…”

Their eyes met, and Deion slowly approached Jason, crowding him. “You saying I was leading you on?” His eyebrows were raised in offense, but his smirk said the opposite. He knew what he was doing and the power he had, at least in that very moment, before may have been a different story.

Jason slowly backed way until his back collided with the door. “I’m just saying you can’t fault a guy for assuming…”

“Guess I can’t…”

He wasn’t afraid of Deion, he was afraid of himself, doubted he’d be able to control his responses. But with how Deion pursued Jason, backing him into a corner and caging him in with his extended arm, he might not want Jason to control himself. _He couldn’t_. The closeness of Deion’s face to Jason, eyes locked in a gaze, nose almost touching and lips almost connecting, was just inviting Jason to close the distance between them.

So, Jason did, he pressed his lips up against Deion’s. It was a hesitant and soft gesture. It was the kind of kiss nervous preteens would have done behind the gym. It was the kind of brave kiss a guy gave when he wasn’t sure if the other person wanted to be kissed.

A person who didn’t want to be kissed doesn’t respond like Deion did. Deion responded eagerly, capturing Jason’s lips between his, and hungrily devouring them. It was like he was waiting for Jason to be the brave one, to give him an excuse. And with that permission, he started kissing him like he was drowning, and Jason was a breath of fresh air.

When he pulled away, Jason gasped for air and he used that opportunities to start kissing down Jason’s neck. “Deion isn’t gay…” Deion murmured to himself.

“Huh?” Jason asked perplexed, he’d heard clearly but was baffled by the sudden use of third person. “What?”

“I’m not gay,” He reiterated defensively. “I just…want to try something… to know how it feels…” He didn’t look up at Jason, he did everything to avoid eye contact. “Ain’t nothing wrong with trying something right? It’s not like it makes me gay or anything.”

Jason’s eyes rolled over, and he released a whimper. He hasn’t had the opportunity to touch and be touched by a guy like this and may never again. His head was swimming in the clouds. “_No_, I guess not.” Who doesn’t want to be wanted?

He collapsed to his knees, from awe and a desire that was buried deep within. Uncovering a want and skill that he had never been taught or exercised before. How to please a man must have been written into his DNA or something, because when given permission Jason _worshipped Deion_.

He covered every inch of him with kisses and bites, teasing and enticing the willing skin of his stomach and thighs. He delighted in causing goosebumps and quivers, eliciting whimpers from the hot heaving body in front of him. Nothing made one feel more like a cannibal than having the pleasure of a licking and sucking the dick of the person whom you want to consume in everyway possible. With a wet mouth and hungry heart.

He wrestled with the primal urge to be Deion, possessing his body like some succubus and be with Deion, following him to the ends of the earth like a shadow.

Jason could have done this forever, just perpetually sucking dick but Deion was as much a human as he was heavenly, and came not long after, rewarding Jason for his dutiful service. And like something pretentious Jason had read before, he happily took his sacrament on his knees and when lapping for more.

Deion tried to return the favor with as much passion but fell just short. Instead he chose to pull Jason up his feet, latch his lips onto his neck like the vampire he was and wrap a firm hand around his cock and working Deion over, to the point of squirming – then whimpering – and then finally moaning into his hand.

Deion didn’t care to receive his sacrament, preferring to wipe it on the bedspread and suck Jason’s from his tongue. He loved kissing, and Jason admired that. Much of the time after their first time was just spent rolling around in bed, feeling everything (nipples, thighs and ass) and kissing everything. It was like he’d never touched skin before or kissed before. He left Jason’s paler skin red and raw, and still yearning for more.

Rinse and repeat, every night and all night. With every iteration of their performance Jason got bolder and sadly _Deion got colder_. Jason would give so much of himself to making sure Deion enjoyed every second of their act, and Deion would make sure he enjoyed himself. At first Jason didn’t know if he was getting more selfish or more timid. It was like he was on autopilot, or purposely forcing himself to act like he wasn’t loving it. Afraid of the consequence of loving it.

So, it was a big surprise when he begged Jason to fuck him, to give everything to him and promised just how good he’d take it. It took all of Jason’s will power to take a time out and hunt for the lube he’d bought in preparation for them getting hot and heavy so often.

Oh god, and when Jason slicked them both up and then proceeded to finger Deion open, while watching eyes rolls over in his head; Deion couldn’t pretend he isn’t enjoying this anymore. He just gave himself over to being held down and finger into madness, writhing and moaning so much Jason had to cover his mouth with his to mask the stifle the noises. If he didn’t their neighboring cabins would have heard sure.

Getting tired of the teasing Deion rolled over onto his hands and knees, lifting his hips and burying his face into the pillow.

“I want to see your face,” Jason asked, kissing Deion’s back.

“Don’t be a girl…_just do it_!” He barked, gripping the pillow and bedding.

It may have not been meant to offend but Jason got offended anyway. Getting angry made him want to forego the romance of it all and be as emotionally detached as Deion desired. He couldn’t help wanting to shower him with love and affection, but he knew when his affection wasn’t wanted.

Giving into the request, Jason slowly and carefully entered him. He was as gentle as he could be, for a long as he could. Then he was as rough and fast as Deion demanded he be. He fucked him, _hard _and _fast_, delighting in the sounds of his moaning and curses – the sound of their wet skin slapping against each other – the small single bed creaking – and the syncopation of their breathing and heart beats.

In that moment he entered a peaceful state in which no negative sounds or thoughts could penetrate _the bubble_ of pleasure surrounding them. There wasn’t any angst or complications surrounding them. No one had reputations to maintain or was pretending to be something he’s not. He was just a boy, making love with a beautiful boy, who wanted him back.

When Jason came, and Deion came not long after, jerking himself to completion - he dissolving the bubble protecting Jason’s heart. Catching his breathing, Jason looked down at Deion. His brown skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and his face was blissed out from his climax, there was no one more beautiful. Before he knew it, he found himself leaning down to capture Deion’s red raw lips.

He was pushed away. “Ugh, don’t…_get off_.” 

“Why?”

“With all the noise you made, we might get a bunk check.”

Noise_ I_ made? Jason internally argued. “We hardly get those…”

“But we might tonight,” Deion said unconvincingly.

Jason scoffed, and climbed off him and gathered his clothes. He returned to his bed, turning his back to Deion. And things went on like that for a while, no matter the position or how good the sex was, they ended up in their separate beds.

When Jason thinks about this in the future, he’d wish he’d rejected Deion. If only to protect his self-esteem, and his _heart._ Nothing _good _can come from having sex with a guy that won’t even look at you during. The sex was undoubtedly incredible but at what cost.

They had sex every night for the rest of the summer. 

But Deion limited any interaction with Jason outside of their cabin.

“You’re not bringing your boyfriend?” Avery asked Deion, mockingly. He at the door of their cabins with a cluster of goons.

“Nah, Jason’s not interested,” Deion asked, glancing over to Jason. “You’re busy aren’t you Jason?”

Jason saw the look in Deion’s eyes, he knew what Deion expected him to say. He didn’t want Jason there. And Jason wondered why? Was he afraid that his friends were getting suspicious and it would get back to his school? Was afraid he couldn’t keep his eyes off Jason while flirting with a bunch of girls? Jason didn’t want to be forced to see that.

“Yeah my coach sent over some new plays, he says if I don’t learn them, he’ll kick my ass.”

“See, _he’s busy studying_.”

“Angel Grove here is being a good boy guys, let’s go be a bad influence!” Avery shouted, riling up the boys.

“Hell yeah!” Deion pumped his fist, stepping through the door. He glanced back at Jason and looked immeasurably guilty for what he was doing. It was a moment, but he was appeared _tortured_ by his decision.

_Good_. _Suffer_.

That’s what he thought until he was left alone in his cabin, and _dreadfully missing Deion_.

The night they had made love he’d offered him a tradeoff, _either be my fuck buddy or my friend, because if you are both it would compromise who I aim to be_. Being my boyfriend isn’t an option. He didn’t want Jason to be confused about what they were, to develop any sort of hope they could be anything meaningful.

Jason would have preferred secrecy, for his own reputation anyway but Deion wanted _simplicity too_. He wanted an uncomplicated label for what they were doing, experimenting and nothing else. And that was a gut-wrenching discovery for Jason.

“You know what I liked about us?” Deion asked, one night while they redressed. He often mused post orgasm.

There is an _us_? Is what Jason wanted to say. “What?” Jason asked instead.

“With guys you can just be yourself and _be enough_.”

“_Enough?”_

“Guys don’t have a lot of expectations for you, ya know.”

“Yeah I know.” Jason knew what he meant. Deion meant when fooling around with men, you don’t need to make any sort of commitment or establish any relationship labels. Apparently, relationships with men require less effort.

Would it always be like that?

If it was, Jason didn’t have much to look forward to. He’ll leave the closet door close for now.

Once he had had Deion ‘D-day’ Elliot, who could ever compare? It’s not like they have chance. Being ‘gay’ was never an option for Deion, (and it wasn’t the semantic that liking Jason wouldn’t make him gay or invalidate his attraction to women. Bisexuality exists and Deion clearly knew this this), his reputation in his rough neighborhood and his budding football career would suffer if anyone knew he liked guys. And if Jason knew anything about Deion, it was that football meant everything to him. And in that respect, he couldn’t relate.

Jason was wrong about Deion Elliot. Loving Deion was like being trapped in a _Hozier _song. The kind of song about forever yearning for an unobtainable almost fictionally beautiful kind of love. A love detached from reality. A love that is irreplaceable. A love that is addictive and damaging like drugs.

You don't know what hell you put me through,  
To have someone kiss the skin that crawls from you,  
To feel your weight in arms I'd never use,  
It's the God that heroin prays to...  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Don’t worry, it’s just teenage angst, real unfiltered emotion. Jason get’s over it in Touched by a Ranger (when Billy enters the picture). Jason thinks he looks nothing like Deion. Deion is being an asshole but he has a big ol sad reason kids.


End file.
